


Haunted Zoo

by sunlightdances (glowinghorizons)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Mild Language, Mild Smut, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 10:37:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16763461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glowinghorizons/pseuds/sunlightdances
Summary: In retrospect, taking a case at the city zoo was probably a bad idea, but what were you supposed to do? As soon as you heard ghost animals, you jumped at the trip. Dean, however, wasn’t so sure.The gang have a hunt at the zoo. What could go wrong?





	Haunted Zoo

“Don’t move.” You tell Dean, carefully tiptoeing towards him. His breathing is shallow, and you fixate on his shoulder. 

“I swear to fuckin’ God, kid–”

“Stop _talking_.” You hiss. “Do you want to die?”  
  
In retrospect, taking a case at the city zoo was probably a bad idea, but what were you supposed to do? As soon as you heard _ghost animals_ , you jumped at the trip. Dean, however, wasn’t so sure.

“If you don’t get this fuckin’ thing off me, I’m going to freak.”

You snort. “A little late for that, don’t you think?” You get closer, trying to figure out how the hell you’re going to get this poison frog off Dean’s shoulder.

The ghost animals turned out to be real, as was their ghostly zookeeper, and the struggle ended in the reptile house, with a few broken glass panes. Of course Dean was here for this. The guy wasn’t keen on reptiles in the first place, and you’re pretty sure he’s two seconds away from losing it and shooting the damn thing.

“Let me–” you get closer, “Let me find a stick or something.”

“That sounds like the worst plan.” Dean shifts on his feet, clearly uncomfortable. “Just shoot it.”

“And get the poison everywhere? No thanks. Plus, this frog didn’t do anything to you. Don’t be so cold-hearted, Dean.” You pause, snapping your fingers as you grin at him. “Or should I say, cold- _blooded_?”

He rolls his eyes. “Jesus Christ.”

“We’re in the reptile house. I couldn’t help it.” 

“Okay, that’s great, I’ll be sure to applaud you later. Just– get this fuckin’ thing off me so we can find Sam and get out of here.” 

You find a fake branch in one of the broken enclosures, and you inch towards Dean again. “Why do they even have poison frogs at a zoo?”

“For _science_.” Dean says, like you’re asking a dumb question. 

Much to your relief, the frog practically leaps at the branch before you even get to Dean, and you let out what you’ll deny later is a yelp before you hurriedly put the little guy back where he belongs. “Okay.” You sound a little breathless. “Let’s get the hell out of here before you make another friend.”

You and Dean hurry outside and meet up with Sam towards the zoo entrance, and you know if you don’t get out of there soon, the cops are going to show up. The alarm in the reptile house started going off as soon as the glass broke, and you really don’t want to spend time explaining your way out of that one.

Back at the hotel, you call dibs on the first shower, and to their credit, the boys only grumble a _little_. It’s been a long few days working this case and you’re tempted to stay in the shower a bit and– well, relieve some tension. You’ll use all the hot water though, and you don’t feel like having an argument about it with Sam or Dean later.

When you get back out to the main room, Dean escapes into the bathroom after you, squeezing by you in the small hallway, making you shut your eyes in frustration. You’re– okay, you’re a little hard up for it, but it’s not your fault.

You travel with two very extremely attractive dudes on the _regular_ , both of whom do nothing to curb their own desires - they just go out and find a nice girl and go to her place. 

You don’t have as much luck. Not for a lack of trying, though. It’s just– you’ve never liked one-night stands. Nothing wrong with ‘em, but you just don’t think you’ve got the emotional bandwidth, as Charlie would say, to deal with that. You’re too quick to get a crush on someone.

So, you deal with it the best you can, but some days it’s harder than others. It doesn’t help that the longer you hunt with the Winchesters, the more affectionate they become. Sam is more shoulder squeezes and arms around your shoulders. It’s Dean– _Dean’s_ the one who’s always gives you hugs, and flirts with you (the guy doesn’t have an off switch, apparently), and gives you these _looks_ sometimes that make you flush.

You’re not sure if he’s doing it on purpose, so in the meantime, you just suffer.

Later, you’re asleep when you hear the door, and you’re instantly upright, scrambling for the knife under your pillow. 

“Relax.” Dean’s voice is deep in your ear.

“Sorry–” Sam says sheepishly, “Go back to sleep.” 

“Where are you going?” You ask, groggy. Turning to Dean, “Where is he _going_?” 

Dean chuckles. “He’s got a date.” 

“It’s late!” 

Now Sam laughs too. “Calm down. You were only asleep an hour. It’s eleven. I’m going to have a drink with that marine biologist.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Don’t wait up.” 

You groan and flop back down, pulling the blanket over your head as Dean laughs. “Ugh. Shut up.” 

“I mean, at least you’re prepared for anything?” He says, teasing.

“Why are you in this bed?” You ask, grumpy. You hate being woken up. You feel like you slept for hours.

He gets quiet. “You were– you were kinda thrashing, a little. Thought you were having a nightmare. Didn’t want you to punch yourself in the face.” He tries to lighten his tone at the end, but you frown anyway.

“I don’t remember it.”

He shrugs. “No worries. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” 

You roll over, facing him. “Thanks.” You prop your head up on one hand. “Why aren’t you out with the– what was she?”

“ _Angela_ worked in the _butterfly exhibit_.” He says, indignantly.

You snort. “Yes. Right.” 

He shrugs. “Didn’t feel like going out.” He drops his hand and it brushes your thigh, just barely. You suppress a shiver.

You sit up, leaning back on the headboard beside Dean. He flips the TV on, and you sit there in a comfortable silence until he shifts, too close to you to be casual. You side-eye him.

The small clench of his jaw is the only clue that he realizes you’re on to him. “You, uh–” He stops himself, then seems to decide he wants to go on. “Am I crazy or were you getting off in the shower?”

Your jaw drops. “What?” You blurt. “I–”

“Don’t answer that.” He holds his hand up. “Sorry. I– I shouldn’t ask you that. None of my business.” 

You’re staring at him now. “Why would you even–”

“I just thought I heard–” He hangs his head, clearly embarrassed. “Nothing. Never mind. I’m a huge asshole. I’m really sorry.” 

Your cheeks are flushed, but you almost want to laugh. Nothing about this hunt has been normal, so why not throw this conversation into the mix? “What if I was?”

His head snaps up to look at you. “Excuse me?”

“Why are you so curious? Maybe I was.” 

Dean’s eyes go dark. “Is that right.”

You feel an ache start to build in the pit of your stomach. “Maybe.”

“ _Maybe_ isn’t a great answer, kid.” He says. His voice sounds dangerous.

He slides a little closer, and must see how eager you are, because he starts touching you immediately. His hand slides up your thigh, and you shiver. “You need help?” He asks, a low rasp.

“Dean–”

“You want me to stop, I’ll stop. But if you want to get off, I can help you do that too.”

You whimper as his mouth hovers over your ear, and jaw. “Want to touch you.” You manage to get out, and he groans softly.

“Want that too.” He tells you. “Been wanting to touch you. For weeks, months.” His hands slide up, up, up, until they dip under the hem of your sleep shorts.

Your hands find purchase on his broad shoulders, and you relish in the way he shudders slightly. “Dean, if you don’t kiss me in the next two seconds…”

His mouth slants over yours before you can finish your sentence. You gasp into his mouth, and your hands frame his face as you hold him to you in hopes that he never, ever stops kidding you.

“Jesus.” He says, his mouth sliding down over your jaw and your neck, sucking a mark into the hollow of your throat. You whimper again, and he ruts his hips against you in reaction. He pulls back and his hands slide down where you’re warm and aching for him. “Goddamn, kid.” He mumbles. “The zoo really got you worked up, huh?”

“Shut up,” you say, breathlessly, almost keening as he presses his fingers against you. 

Neither of you talk for much longer, not until he gets both of your clothes off, and then– Dean’s inside of you, and he lets out a groan, and starts talking again. You’re starting to think the dirty talk is as much as thing for him as it is for you.

“You feel so goddamn good.” He whispers as he sets a steady pace. “Fuck.”

“If you stop, I’ll shoot you.” You warn when his pace falters, and he grins.

“Just making sure you’re– _shit.”_ He swallows hard. “Just making sure you’re feeling good.”

You smile up at him. “Never better. Now shut up and fuck me, Dean.” 

His eyes darken even more, and he picks up the pace, until you’re practically writhing underneath him. He tells you how much he’s thought of this, how many times he’s pictured you spread out underneath him, and you whimper.

“C’mon.” He whispers. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let go. I want to see you. I want to watch your face when you come for me.”

You arch your back as your orgasm overtakes you, and Dean’s face looks strained as he struggles not to close his eyes. “That’s it, baby. That’s it. Fuck, yes.”

He says your name on a low moan when he comes, and you hold him close to you as you both ride out the aftershocks. A few minutes later, he lets out a breathless chuckle. “That was… unexpected.” He kisses your collarbones. “Good, though. Really good.”

You grin back at him, unable to tear your gaze away from his sparkling eyes. “Yeah. Good.”

“You gonna freak out? Try to bail on us tomorrow?” Dean looks at you with a surprisingly vulnerable look on his face. 

“Nah.” You say, casual. “Too much work to change my identity and all that.” You wink at him.

“God.” He snorts. “You’re such a brat. I almost can’t believe that I–” He stops himself, and your heart starts pounding. “Can’t believe that I actually _like_ you.”

It’s not an admission of love, but it’s enough. Dean doesn’t do emotions. The way he’s looking at you, though– it makes you want to do some cartwheels or some shit.

“Hey.” He says, getting your attention. “I do, though. Like you.”

You smile softly. “Same, Dean.”

You drift off to sleep in his arms, and in the morning, he holds your hand as you walk out to the Impala to load your stuff in the back, only letting go when he goes to the front desk to check out while you wait for Sam. He looks over his shoulder at you twice on his way there, and you think that if this is how it’s gonna be from here on out, you could get used to this.


End file.
